Laugh with me, Darling
by Nova LEW
Summary: Young love at it's best! Possibility of multiple pairings: just a nice, lighthearted read!
1. The Sweets of Summer

1Ok, so I am SOOOOOOO sorry to all of you who have added me as a favorite author, and have been disappointed while I haven't been writing. Let me just say this in defense of myself:

I utterly and completely suck.

That being said, let me just introduce this new project. I am not in the best of moods while I am starting this, so I apologize if I come across as kurt. I decided that I wanted to undergo a lighthearted project, because most of my stuff winds up dark and deep. I want this one to remain kind of upbeat, but, of course, there will be parts that aren't quite so perky. Please, enjoy it for what it is intended to be: a mostly happy-go-lucky story of teenaged love. This story, and it's plot lines, will be mine, though the characters will not. The facts, such as birthdays and what have you, may not be properly timed. The setting will be completely different from that of the 7th book. They may not match the actual Harry Potter stories. This is probably due to the fact that I AM NOT ROWLING, AND I DO NOT OWN THE STORIES! That disclaimer being exclaimed, I shall begin.

Chapter 1: The Sweets of Summer

Packing always takes forever for a teenager. One needs to be sure that one has collected everything one will ever need for the time away, and then pack more, just in case. And packing is made no easier when said teenager is a complete perfectionist. When that's the case, they usually end up over packing, and don't really need half the things that they intend to bring. In theory, they would run out of room in whatever they're luggage of choice was, because they simply packed too much. This would have been the case for Hermione Granger, except for one simple fact: She was a 17-year-old witch. Due to her age, she was legally allowed to cast any spell she pleased, which came in handy, because her trunk really needed to be Extended. In Hermione's enchanted trunk, one could fall inside and keep falling for years. But, hey, she was a teenaged girl. She needed all the room she could get.

Hermione ran frantically around her room. She left for Platform 9 3/4 in two days, and this was cause for her to rush around trying to make sure that she had packed everything. Of course, being the orderly girl that she was, she already had everything she needed stored neatly in the trunk, waiting to be toted to Hogwarts. Still, though she could not have been more thoroughly and neatly packed, Hermione searched for things she felt she had forgotten.

"Accio, dress robes!" She cried, sure she hadn't yet packed them. And yet, out of the Extended trunk they zoomed, landing neatly at her feet.

"Oh!" She exclaimed. She refolded them and sent them gently soaring back into her trunk. She rose her wand, just about to cast another spell, when a voice came floating up the stairs.

"Hermione, dear," Her mother called, "Andrew's on the line for you!"

Slowly, a grin spread across Hermione's face. She seemed to light from within, emanating a natural kind of glow. Andrew, you see, had been Hermione's steady boyfriend for two years. They were neighbors, and had grown up together. As such, not only were they boyfriend and girlfriend, but they were also best friends. Hermione knew everything about Andrew, and vice versa, except for one small fact: Hermione's status as a Muggle-born witch. She had never quite had the heart to tell Andrew where exactly she went for the year. She couldn't figure out how to break it to him that she, his childhood sweetheart, was capable of sending him flying with one swish of her wand. She seemed to, briefly, think of this fact: that she had never been able to tell him her one, biggest secret. Her smile faltered slightly as this thought crossed her mind. However, she brightened up soon after, and skipped across her room to pick up the extremely worn portable phone her parents had gifted her when she was nine.

"Hello?" Her voice came out as a chime.

"Hey, gorgeous." His bass voice replied. "What are you up to?"

"Just finishing up with my packing." She replied, waving her wand over her trunk to lock it. He chuckled.

"Ever the apple-polisher. I thought you didn't leave for two days?" Though his voice was light, she could hear the saddened undertones. She understood how he felt: She disliked leaving him as much as he disliked being left.

"I don't, and that's lucky for you, isn't it?" She replied, keeping the conversation light. Again, he chuckled.

"And why is that lucky for me, Herms?" He purred.

"Well, it's clear, isn't it?" She smiled quite broadly, though he couldn't see it. "You get two more whole days of the wonderful and glorious me." This time, his chuckled became an outright laugh.

"Well, now, don't be too modest, Herms!" There was a slight pause while they both acknowledged the fact that she was always modest: whenever she boasted, it was purely in jest. She would never dream to think herself wonderful or glorious, though she very well was. Then, he added, "Are you done with your packing, then?"

This time, Hermione chuckled. "I thought you knew me, Andrew. I'm NEVER done with my packing."

He laughed. "True. Well, could I convince you to take a short break?"

She smiled again. "And for what reason?" she replied, although she very well knew what the reason was.

"I was wondering if you might want a night out on the town with me. You know, just to, sort of...say..." His voice trailed off. He could never seem to find the courage to say this one word, though he could say so much.

"Goodbye?" She finished sadly, not really wanting to say it, either. "You know I'd love to."

"Great!" His tone seemed to have brightened again. "I'll be around to pick you up then." This made Hermione laugh. After all, they did live right down the street from each other! They had all their lives.

"Great. So the drive should be, what, about 30 seconds, if traffic's bad?"

"Very funny, Herms. Be seeing you?"

"Yeah, Andrew. Be seeing you." Hermione put down the phone, then quickly realized that she needed to change. After all, she was wearing a Weird Sister's shirt! What was she supposed to tell Andrew, that it was an indie band, and that's why he'd never heard of it? He'd never believe her: Hermione wasn't quite an indie kind of girl. She rushed to her closet, trying to find something semi-normal to wear. She settled on a pink button down sweater that her mother had gotten her, with a lacy white camisole underneath, and a simpler pair of jeans. 'There." she said. "That's Muggle enough." Soon, she heard a honking coming from her driveway and looked out the window to see Andrew's blue mini-Cooper with the white stripes that she so adored.

She threw on a pair of brown flip-flops, ran down the stairs, yelled a quick "Mom, I'm going out with Andrew!" over her shoulder, and flew out the door. His windows were down, and he was playing one of his rap songs that Hermione could never recognize. To her, his only flaws were his taste, or lack there of, in music. She walked to the passenger door and opened it.

"Hey, handsome." She cooed, leaning across to peck him on the cheek.

"Hey, handsome." He mimicked back to her in something very similar to her own coo, laughing as always as he caressed her cheek with his hand. His voice got more serious as he said, "You look stunning as always."

Hermione, who was used to his change in tones and could tell that he was no longer joking, blushed a deep scarlet. She smiled, and tucked a flyaway piece of hair behind her ear. All of these years, and she had never once learned to smooth out her hair. Andrew never seemed to mind. He loved her crazy curls. "Where are we off to?" She quietly said.

"Where we always go." He replied with a dazzling smile. She smiled broadly back at him, and settled back into her seat. She slipped off her sandals and rested her feet on the dashboard in front of her. He chuckled. "Always make yourself comfortable, don't you?" She simply smiled in reply, then slyly reached to change the station. He caught her hand.

"Tsk, tsk." He knew what station she wanted. "None of that in my car." She groaned, as always. The only thing she didn't love about him was his taste in music.

"Please?" she pleaded. "I leave in two days. Maybe just this once...?" Her question remained unfinished.

"Hermione, in my car, we listen to my music. Now, maybe when YOU get a car..." She wished she could tell him all of the reasons that she would never need a car. She could Apparate, she could fly on a broomstick, or on a Thestral, for that matter. But these excuses would be lost on him.

"Rest assured, Andrew, I'll never need a car." She stated. It was truthful enough.

"You seem so sure. I wish you would tell me why that was." Even though she never told him, she sometimes had the feeling that Andrew knew that something was not as it seemed. This feeling usually came in the form of a wrench in her gut.

"Well, it's clearly because I'll be riding around in your wonderful mini-Cooper for the rest of my life!" She tried to lighten the mood again. He smiled slightly, so she had slightly succeeded, but they fell into a thought-filled silence anyway. They drove for a few more minutes, then pulled up in front of the restaurant where they had their first date. Smiling, he pulled into a parking spot, then walked around to her door and opened it for her. As she stepped out, he pulled her into his arms, where she relished in his sweet embrace. Then, they let go of each other and walked to the door, holding hands the entire way. They opened the door, and a very small child ran out, followed quickly by his frantic mother.

"Anthony...Anthony Mellone, come back here!!...I swear, you'll be grounded from the telly!..." But the mother's words were lost on the slightly insane little boy's ears. He seemed to be too fast for a boy whose legs were so small. He stopped in the parking lot, and gazed upwards. Hermione could swear that, as he pointed at the sky he had made a star or two change color to a bright, glowing purple. Hermione smiled, recognizing the magic of a wizard to be. She silently wished him the best of luck.

Gently, Andrew squeezed her hand, pulling her out of her reverie. He looked at her curiously, and she responded with a look of her own, which clearly stated "Someday, I'll explain." This seemed enough, for they walked forward into the restaurant. They were greeted with the sight of a giant jungle gym, multiple arcade games, and tiny children running around barefoot everywhere. Hermione smiled at the thought of their first date...it had been on her 15th birthday. Andrew had taken her here, where they had first met. However, she had been turning four then. She loved that, even though they were teens, he still took her to a tiny child's restaurant. It spoke volumes about the child he was at heart, the child she had loved from the moment they met. They had come here many times since then, because it was a special place to them, despite the fact that they were years too old for it. It had been the wonderful thought behind it that made it great. She looked at Andrew, and he smiled at her. He pulled her to the booth that they always shared and, when the waiter came up, they ordered the pizza that they always ordered.

Hours later, they came out of the restaurant laughing, and walked down the strip that the restaurant was on. They ordered two ice creams, and wandered around aimlessly, eating ice cream, laughing, and holding hands. When midnight rolled around, Andrew figured it was time to get Hermione home before her father skinned him alive. They got back into his care and rolled the windows down, letting the summer breeze blow their hair back from their faces. Once they had reached Hermione's driveway, she turned to face Andrew.

"Thank you," she said "for the lovely time, as always."

He lovingly cupped her face in his hands. "Thank you for coming out with me." He planted a sweet, warm kiss on her lips. His was a kiss that she never got sick of. Gentlemanly as always, he kept the kiss relatively chaste. "Goodnight, Hermione. You know I love you, right?"

"You'd be crazy not to." She responded with a smile. "But, of course, I love you, too."

She got out of the car and walked up to her door. As she walked inside, she turned around to blow him a kiss. Mockingly, he pretended to catch it. She just laughed, and walked inside.

Shutting the door behind her, she sighed. The one thing she always missed when she went to Hogwarts was him.


	2. Confessions

1Did everybody enjoy the first chapter?? I certainly hope so!

On with the second!!

Chapter 2: Confessions

It was early in the morning, and the bounce in Hermione's step was undeniable. While she gathered the last of her things and magically led them into her family room, she kept thinking of her last night with Andrew, two days ago. She sighed, wishing that she could have told Andrew exactly what she was: a witch, who was forced to pretend to be otherwise around Muggles, so that she might protect others of her kind. She was always afraid, though, that Andrew wouldn't see her that way. She was afraid that, when she told him, he wouldn't merely think of how she was just doing her part to protect the world of magic. She was afraid we would think she was a fraud fo lying to him for all of these years. And yet, somewhere within her, Hermione kept faith that Andrew wouldn't leave her if he found out. She felt in her heart that, we she to share with Andrew her secret, he would eventually just accept it as a part of the girl that he loved.

For these reasons, Hermione decided that, before she left at 10 that morning, she had to tell Andrew where she was actually going. It was very early, and she knew that her phone call would wake him, but it was something she had to do.

As soon as she heard his voice on the other line, Hermione started to doubt her sudden decision to come clean. She felt butterflies in her stomach equivalent to the time she had first told him she loved him.

"'ello?" A bass voice asked groggily.

"Andrew?" She questioned tentatively.

"Herms." Her name sounded like a sigh. "Why are you calling so early? Aren't you leaving soon?"

"I leave at 10." She felt so nervous that she could hardly focus on anything else. Her tongue was getting stuck to the roof of her mouth, and her heart was pounding a mile a minute. Suddenly, she felt that her jelly-like knees could no longer support her weight. She sat down with the phone in her hand, face flushing and head reeling, trying to figure out the best way to say what she knew she had to say.

"Are you all right, Herms? You sound...anxious."

"I'm...I'm fine. Andrew...do you think we could meet one last time before I go? There's...s-s-something I need to say." Where had her stuttering come from? She never stuttered before! She felt stupid for being so hesitant, but she couldn't find it in herself to be otherwise. Damn it, weren't Gryffindors supposed to be brave?

"Ok, Hermione." He sounded truly worried. "Where did you want to meet?"

"Um...c-can we meet at our bench?" The bench was the spot where she had first admitted to him that she loved him. She could think of no other appropriate place to make a confession of such magnitude.

"All right. I'll meet you there in a few." He was undeniably waking up, and seemed slightly shaken by Hermione's nervous mood. "Are you sure everything's ok?"

"I hope it will be." was her reply. She could never find it in herself to lie to him about her emotions. "See you in a few."

Hermione put down the phone and headed out the door without a second glance towards the mirror. She didn't want to see the nervous wreck that she knew she would see there. It was a short walk to the bench that shared such special memories for Hermione and Andrew. When Hermione approached, Andrew was already there.

Upon seeing her, Andrew immediately jumped to a standing position. He walked forward towards Hermione and pulled her into an embrace as sweet and strong as the scent of an apple orchard. Hermione held him close, hoping that this would not be the last time he ever held her like this. She pulled away and looked into his eyes, amazed as always by the depths of the sea blue there.

'What was that for?" Hermione asked, slightly breathless from both her nerves and the intensity of the embrace.

"You sounded like you needed it." He said simply.

"Oh." Hermione's anxieties started to ease as she settled into the comfort of his presence.

"Was there something you needed to tell me?" His brows furrowed, and Hermione could see the confusion she had caused him.

"Well..."Her anxieties returned, full-throttle. There was no anticipating how he would react to her news. "You...might want to sit down."

He looked even more confused than ever. "Ok." He sat down on the bench, gazing upwards at her. "Shoot."

Hermione took a deep breath.

"Ok...this won't be easy to explain." Hermione began to pace around, unable to stay still. "Have you ever noticed anything...different about me?" He looked confused, so she continued. "Do you remember when we were younger, how I would always be able to reach the top shelf despite the fact that that should have been physically impossible? Or how I would fall and skin my knee and would automatically reach to put my hands over it. You would come running but, by the time I removed my hands, the scrape would be gone? Or do you remember that time that your brother kept knocking around our pieces when we were trying to play candy land, and the next day it looked like a tornado had hit his room, setting the telly on top of his wardrobe and moving his bed to the other side of the room, so that the foot of it was facing the wall and the headboard was in the middle? And each time when one of these strange things would happen, excuses would be made. I would say I had gotten the ladder to reach the top shelf, or that I was just a quick healer, and we laughed about what a messy person your brother was?"

"Yes..." His voice trailed off as he waited for Hermione to make her point.

"Well..." Her words started to come off in a rush. "The thing is, I didn't get the ladder. I'm not a quick healer. And your brother's not that messy."

"Hermione...what are you saying?" His voice was quiet, but his eyes were a little wider than they had been a moment before. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Andrew...would you believe me if I told you that those things were caused by..." Hermione took a gulp of air, breathless because of how fast she was speaking. "...magic?"

The air seemed to stop moving, as did Andrew. He looked slightly reminiscent of a fish out of water.

"Hermione...are you kidding me? Magic?"

"Andrew, I'm totally serious. Haven't you ever wondered why there's no phone at my school? It's because witches and wizards..." She paused before saying this, " like my self, don't usually use them. For the most part, we don't EVER use them. I mean, I do because I'm Muggle-born, but..." She was starting to let her words get away with her.

"Wait...what's a Muggle?" He looked like he was trying to grasp what Hermione was saying. Hermione started to relax. At least he hadn't called her crazy yet.

"Well...you're a Muggle. Mum and Dad are Muggles. Basically, a Muggle is a non-magical person."

"But, Herms...magic...it doesn't exist, does it?"

"Andrew, that's what I'm trying to tell you. Yes, magic exists and...I can use it. I'm a witch, Andrew."

He looked shocked. Slowly, however, a smile spread across his face.

"Hermione...you're joking around. Magic doesn't exist! If it did, there would be no...no wars, and no hunger, and everything would be...perfect.

"Andrew, magic can't fix everything. It can only help. I'll prove it exists, if you want me to."

"Please, do." Andrew was still smiling, clearly not believing what Hermione was saying.

"Ok." Hermione extracted her wand from her sleeve, and Andrew stared at it, dumbfounded. Without him needing to ask the question, Hermione answered it. "This is a magic wand, Andrew. All witches and wizards need one in order to do magic, unless they are extraordinarily talented. If you'd still like me to, I'll show you magic."

He nodded his head, and it seemed as though he were starting to believe her.

"Ok. Would you stand up, please? I'll use the bench." Andrew obliged, looking halfway between believing and not. Hermione pointed her wand at the bench, and did the swish and flick that she was so familiar with.

"Wingardium Leviosa." She said under her breath. Without hesitation, the bench floated in the air. As the bench rose into the air, Andrew stumbled back.

"You weren't lying." He gasped, holding his chest and seeming to be hanging onto himself for dear life. "Magic...exists! And you...you're a..." He stared at Hermione, astonishment apparent in his eyes.

"Witch." She rose her hand, smiling like a child who was admitting that she ate the last chocolate.


	3. Short but Sweet

1Ok, I am soooooooo sorry that its been so long!!! Here's a little reminder of what I left of with:

RECAP, CHAPTER 2:

_"Wingardium Leviosa." She said under her breath. Without hesitation, the bench floated in the air. As the bench rose into the air, Andrew stumbled back._

_"You weren't lying." He gasped, holding his chest and seeming to be hanging onto himself for dear life. "Magic...exists! And you...you're a..." He stared at Hermione, astonishment apparent in his eyes._

_"Witch." She rose her hand, smiling like a child who was admitting that she ate the last chocolate._

**Chapter 3: Short but Sweet**

"Hermione...Herms...how...?" Hermione watched as Andrew helplessly tried to form words. She was praying that he would accept this new information about her as a part of her. Suddenly, she felt the need to explain herself further, to save them both the agony of not knowing what was coming.

"Look, Andrew...I fully know that this is a hard thing to accept. I mean, you've known me all our lives as the nice girl who lives next door and goes away to some advanced school every year for nine months, and you can't talk to her except for letters. To you, I've been maybe smarter than average, maybe prettier then average, but I've always been a normal girl. And now, for you to find out that all this time, I haven't been who you thought I was...that's huge. Finally, all of the questions that have been tugging at the back of your mind have been answered: why my notes come clutched in the claws of an owl, why you sometimes don't understand the things you come across in my room. And not being able to tell you the truth about myself... that's killed me. I've wanted to come clean with you from day one, but I felt like I couldn't because being a witch isn't exactly...normal. So I've only been able to let you in on half of who I am, all the time wishing that I could tell you everything." She stopped for a moment, not quite able to meet his gaze.

"You have no idea how many times I've wanted to gush to you in a letter about the new, wonderful things I was learning. Andrew...I know things you could never dream of. I can brew a potion to heal an ailing person. I can cast a spell and protect those I love from unforseen dangers. And, I must confess..." She glanced up and met his liquid gaze. She found that she couldn't look away. "I have cast a spell of protection over your house." His mouth dropped, so she rushed to explain. "There's just no way I could leave you completely while I was gone. Andrew, I've wanted to tell you everything for so long and...and now...I can only hope that you'll still love me."

The silence that followed was enough to break Hermione's heart. Andrew broke their locked gaze and looked to the ground. He sat on the bench and put his head in his hands. But he didn't say one word.

"Andrew...would you say something? Please?" Hermione could hear the begging tone in her voice and was annoyed by its sound, but she couldn't help herself. What was going through his mind?

"Hermione..." Her name was a whisper from his lips as he locked gazes with her once more. "What am I supposed to say?"

This wasn't exactly the answer Hermione had wanted to hear.

"What do you mean?" She could feel the heat in the back of her eyes that preceded tears.

"Well, honestly Hermione!" The volume of his voice surprised her. "You wake me up at this godforsaken hour with some anxious phone call. You drag me to this bench. You sit me down and have this crazy look in your eyes that I don't understand, and frankly, you scared the shit out of me!"

"Andrew, I didn't think my magic would-"

"Herms, its not the magic that scares me! When you said you had something to tell me, I thought...I thought that..." He took a deep breath and said, in the voice of a scared child, "I thought you were going to break up with me." He recollected himself before resuming in his normal, deep voice. "Hermione, magic I can handle. I accept the fact that you...make benches float and...brew potions, and God only knows what else. I mean, I should have known that you were a witch from the way you've charmed me over. But I couldn't handle losing you."

Hermione felt relief sweep over her like a wave.

"Is that it? I was afraid you would think I was some kind of freak."

"Herms." He pulled her into him, placing one arm around her waist and cupping her face in his hand. He looked into her honey brown eyes. "I could never think that of you. Sure, it's a little...freaky, this magic thing. For God's sake did you see that bench fly?" He chuckled under his breath. "But I'll get used to it. It's a big part of you, and I'll grow to love it as much as I love the rest of you."

"Seriously?" Hermione laughed loudly, breaking away from Andrew. "That's it? No 'Holy shit, Herms!' or 'How did you do that?'? You'll accept it this easily?"

"Well, if you want, I can storm off angrily and call you all sorts of names." He was smiling widely. "Hell, I could even call on the witch hunters. Tell me, can you still be burned at the stake for this sort of thing?"

Hermione laughed.

"Well, I think nowadays that anyone who saw magic performed would write it off as a trick of the eye. People don't believe things so easily anymore."

Andrew grabbed Hermione in his arms.

"Seriously, Hermione. I love you. And I'll grow to accept this as easily as I accept the rest of you."

"Oh, Andrew. I'm so glad I've told you!" They kissed as they'd never kissed before.

Hermione leaned into Andrew and whispered in his ear, "I have another secret."

"And what would that be, my dear?" He purred.

"I'm pregnant."

Andrew pulled away, his eyes wider than they'd ever been, and exclaimed, "What?????" But we haven't had..." But seeing the look on her face, he realized she was merely playing a prank on him. She burst out laughing, doubled over.

"You should have seen you're face!" She exclaimed, breathless. He smiled, too, laughing at his own gullibility.

"Oh, I'll get you back so bad!"

And before Hermione knew it, he had tackled her to the ground, tickling her breathless.

"Andrew! Stop!! I can't breathe!"

"Then apologize!" He was unrelenting in tickling her.

"Fine, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!!!"

"That's better." He said, stopping immediately. He offered her a hand to help her up from the grass, but she immediately pulled him back down. Before he knew it, Hermione had rolled over on top of him. Her hair was covering his face as she said, "I love you." She kissed him, and they somehow knew that everything would be okay.


End file.
